


A Morning After

by Eliza



Series: 21 Days in April [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 04:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza/pseuds/Eliza
Summary: Yuri’s not ready to say “love”. It's just one thing on a list of things he's not ready for, but the list is getting smaller.





	A Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Наутро](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092936) by [fandom_Kumys_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Kumys_2018/pseuds/fandom_Kumys_2018), [Menada_Vox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menada_Vox/pseuds/Menada_Vox), [Shae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shae/pseuds/Shae)

> HUGS! to [Bonibaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru) for helping me figure out what was going on in Yuri's head and for pruning all the extra words.

Yuri was a warm, boneless blob, just awake enough to feel a single finger running up his spine. He'd hit the ice hard yesterday, and last night, Otabek massaged away the tension that had been growing as a result of the jarring impact. He'd finished with soft kisses and a perfect handjob when Yuri was already close to dozing, and the orgasm had sent Yuri straight to sleep. Waking up to the same thing, Otabek's hands moving on him, was the best thing that had happened to him in his whole life.

And he'd won Grand Prix gold.

Otabek must have realized Yuri was awake because the soft fingertip touches over his shoulders and neck became full-hand caresses. If Yuri could manage to turn his head to rest on the other cheek, he'd be staring right into Otabek's armpit. He'd have to make an effort to look higher, to see the soft smile on Otabek's lips, the warm look in his eyes. Since he was boneless, that wasn't happening, but it didn't matter; Yuri knew exactly what Otabek looked like when he first woke up. That realization was enough to rouse Yuri a little bit more.

“You're lucky you're so fucking sexy first thing in the morning,” Yuri mumbled into the mattress. “Is it morning? What time is it?”

“Six.” Otabek slid his fingers along Yuri's scalp, using firm, massaging strokes to pull the hair away from Yuri's face. Yuri cracked open an eye just in case Otabek could see his glare.

“The alarm doesn't go off for another two hours! Why are you waking me up?”

Otabek leaned close, his warm breath tickling Yuri's ear. “Because the alarm doesn't go off for another two hours.”

Yuri pressed his cock—which was waking up faster than he was—firmly into the mattress. That was the voice that went with the look, and part of him hated that he could be led around by his dick like this. But it was a very small part. And quiet, compared to the parts which were insisting he turn over so Otabek could touch him on the other side. The more interesting side.

That assessment became wide open for debate as Otabek slid his hand back down Yuri's spine and firmly cupped his ass before skating over the spectacular bruise on his hip. Otabek didn't press down hard enough to hurt, but the skin was sensitive, and the fact that Otabek didn't avoid the damage contributed as much to Yuri's shiver as the physical sensation.

Otabek skimmed up Yuri's side, and as his hand reached the matching bruise on Yuri's shoulder, he said, “You must love the ice a lot to let it kiss you like this.”

Boneless was no longer an accurate description, so Yuri turned over. “Not as much as I like you.”

Otabek didn't comment on the change of verb, and Yuri knew he never would. They had an agreement—mostly unspoken—about the words they used with each other. Yuri had let three big ones slip out a few days earlier: I miss you. Neither one of them could do anything to change how infrequently they saw each other, and within a few weeks of their first kiss, they had actually talked about not poking at that bruise. Subtle payback could be why Otabek was sneaking in the L-word whenever possible. Often enough that Yuri had started to notice, in any case. 

“Would you let me kiss you like that?” Otabek said, fingers back on the bruise on Yuri’s hip.

Yuri frowned. They weren't shy about exploring kinks, but…he must have misheard. When in doubt, sarcasm was always a good choice. “You want to punch me in the eye to let the world know how much you love me?”

…_love_…. Shit.

Otabek smiled, not his sly smirk or amused grin, but a real smile. Yuri's heart always jumped when he saw that smile. It was like being shown a piece of Otabek's soul, and he knew he was one of the few people who got to see it. 

Otabek brushed his fingertips over Yuri's eyebrows. “Not the eye. And certainly not a punch. But,” he kissed Yuri's cheekbone, “something,” then his jaw, “to serve as a reminder.” He set his lips on Yuri's neck, and with a scrape of teeth sucked some blood to the surface. Yuri tensed. Too many people watched him too closely. He wasn't ashamed of being with Otabek, but he didn't want to feel like he had to explain.

“Too public. Got it,” Otabek murmured against Yuri's skin, soothing the area with his breath. Yuri arched his neck, demanding more kisses in payment for kicking him out of the sexy mood. Otabek always gave him more than he asked for, and he knew exactly how softly to place his lips, how firm to stroke with his tongue, how hard to bite so that the sensation shivered down Yuri's spine to his cock. 

Otabek moved down Yuri’s throat and along his collarbone while Yuri panted and squirmed, but paused before reaching Yuri's bruised shoulder, licking a spot just below the collarbone at the joint. He glanced up in question, and Yuri shook his head. “Showers after practice. And could you imagine Lilia's face if she had a new costume for me to try and she saw it?” 

The only response was a raised eyebrow, and Yuri knew he'd been caught. Everyone at the rink knew he was house-sitting with Otabek for the rest of the month, and it would take more than a glimpse of a little mark for Lilia to crack an expression. He'd have to tell the truth.

“Mila would absolutely find it if she was in the mood to instigate a hickey check.” Otabek laughed and set his lips onto the spot. “No! I don't want to give her the satisfaction!”

“But I like Mila,” Otabek pouted.

“You had to have one flaw,” Yuri snarked, tugging at Otabek's hair. There was the cheeky grin. Yuri was still getting used to how much of a brat Otabek was in bed, only in that he was still pleasantly surprised by it. Otabek would share his dry sense of humour in public but when they were naked, he was more likely to tease and be silly. In those moments, Yuri bitched and moaned and gave him anything he wanted.

Otabek had probably figured that out as well because he slid that grin over the curve of Yuri's chest to settle on the nipple where he sucked and bit just enough to make Yuri shudder and swear. He kept going, mouthing his way down Yuri's torso, only detouring to press a gentle kiss on the edge of the bruise at his hip. Otabek looked up then and settled just the slightest bit lower, so that when he breathed his chest brushed against Yuri's cock. Yuri tried to move his hips, but Otabek kept a firm grip on them, holding him still.

Yuri always found Otabek's willingness to manhandle him so hot. “God! There are days when I hate you,” he snarled.

“Is today one of them?” Otabek said, his voice soft and husky, the way it got when he sometimes slipped into Khazakh. Yuri's cock twitched, making contact with Otabek's skin, a Pavlovian reaction to Otabek being that turned on. They needed to get things moving. 

“It's only just started. It might be, if you put some effort into it.”

The challenge sparked heat in Otabek's eyes which lit Yuri up like a bonfire. He was already struggling against Otabek's grip without making any progress, so when Otabek leaned more of his weight onto Yuri's pelvis, Yuri just closed his eyes and let out a frustrated moan.

Then Otabek put his mouth back on Yuri's skin.

There was a spot just inside the wing of his hipbone which was as ticklish as hell. Except Otabek wasn't tickling that spot, he was fucking fellating it. Kissing and licking and sucking, but it was the almost painful scrape of teeth which set off fireworks under Yuri's skin. He fisted his hand in Otabek's hair again but didn't know whether to pull him away or push him down harder. All Yuri could do was take it, releasing what tension he could by arching his neck and making the most embarrassing noises. His cock was being barely teased by occasional brushes against Otabek's chest, but something was definitely building there. And just as it was getting interesting, Otabek pulled back.

“Hate me yet?” Not just a brat, a smug brat. Smug, sexy brat.

“You owe me so fucking much,” Yuri panted. He couldn't even summon enough pretend outrage to turn it into a growl. 

Otabek lowered his head and licked at the purpling spot then moved away, tilting his head like he was admiring his handiwork. When he looked up at Yuri, it was clear that this was Otabek's version of putting a ring on it. It was just like the look he got when he saw Yuri wearing the necklace he'd given Yuri last year. Only this gift Yuri couldn't take off. Yuri could feel the threat of tears rising up behind his eyes—he wouldn't be able to keep it, either. 

“Got something in mind?” Otabek said, his voice going soft again. 

Yuri ignored Otabek's confused sounds as he rolled out from under him and toward the nightstand. He reached into the basket on the shelf, tossed the lube at Otabek, but stayed on his side. Between the lube and the position, Otabek should have got the message, but it stayed too quiet for too long. Yuri looked over his shoulder. “You don't want to?”

Otabek seemed to shake himself out of whatever thought had been distracting him. “I do! I was expecting something more…efficient. Like a blowjob.”

“You're too far away during a blowjob.”

There was the look again, and it made Yuri embarrassed; he turned away so Otabek could shift closer against his back. The closing snap of the cap was Yuri's cue to raise his upper knee, and Otabek spread the lube left on his hand onto Yuri's inner thighs. Yuri sighed quietly as they relaxed into the familiar arrangement, touching as much skin as they could manage, Otabek sliding his cock into the press of Yuri's legs as he took hold of Yuri's hip for leverage. Yuri shifted Otabek's index finger over the new mark and pushed it down. The gasp in his ear and the strengthening of the grip made it clear the placement had been noted. 

Usually this was slow and easy; they did it early in the morning when Yuri wasn't quite awake or at the end of an exhausting day during the post-competition adrenaline crash. It was a cuddle with orgasms. Today, it didn't feel like that. Otabek slid an arm under Yuri's body, pulling him back against Otabek's chest rather than Otabek simply curling around him. The new position left Yuri more exposed. It also gave him the impression that today Otabek was treating this as…the next best thing. Yuri had thought—a lot—about what it would feel like to have Otabek moving inside him with the same strong, controlled thrusts he used between Yuri's thighs. To have Otabek even closer. He wasn’t ready for that. Yet. However…. 

“Would you like me to fuck you?” he asked.

“Don’t move!” 

Otabek sounded pained and he tightened his hold around Yuri chest. Yuri hadn't realized Otabek was that close. That he could be so close when they'd hardly started. He could feel the deep, measured breaths against his skin and the pounding of Otabek’s heart against his back. As both started to ease, Otabek moved his grip from Yuri's hip to his cock, and Yuri took a deep breath of his own, the first stroke of the still slick palm letting him settle into muscle memory. He knew these moves.

“Is that an offer or a general question?” Otabek said, his voice back to his normal stupidly sexy.

“Let’s say it’s a general question.”

“Do you really need me to answer?” Otabek said, laughter in his voice, starting the slow, tormenting slide again. 

Yes, Otabek's reaction had made his opinion on the matter very clear, but— “I want to know why.”

“Kiss me first.”

They hadn't really kissed yet this morning, but Yuri wasn't sure this one counted either. With Yuri looking over his shoulder, it was awkward and messy, and Yuri knew Otabek was stalling. Otabek got quickly that it wasn't working, turning to softer kisses along Yuri's jaw, moving toward his ear, where he said, “Probably for the same reasons you like this—and I like this. We can be close, with hands and mouths free. We can feel each other move, and there is nothing hotter than feeling you move, Yuri. What it comes down to is that I want to make you feel really good and I know I’d feel really good, too."

He knew he'd like it. Not just the idea of it, Otabek knew he liked having a cock in him. “You’ve done it before?”

Otabek shook his head. “Not with another person.”

“If not—? Oh!”

“Yuri?”

“Harder,” Yuri said, suddenly breathless. The thought of Otabek preparing—practicing—for this with the same focus he did for his skating, sent a surge of heat through Yuri. He rocked back against the push of Otabek's cock, and Otabek responded by gripping his cock firmer, stroking faster. “Would you show me?”

“Show you?” Otabek sounded surprised, but not at all confused. He knew exactly what Yuri was asking. 

“I could help,” Yuri said turning his face up, hoping for another kiss. At this point, he didn't care if it was awkward, he just wanted Otabek's taste in his mouth, but Otabek groaned and pressed his face into Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri held his breath as Otabek's come soaked his thighs, wondering what that orgasm would feel like from the inside. Otabek's. His. He brushed aside Otabek's hand, currently motionless on his cock, and only needed a couple of strokes before he was arching into his own release.

“Sorry.” Otabek said, his voice muffled by Yuri’s skin.

Only Otabek would apologize for coming. He's taking points off for that. “The last landing was two-footed, but the rest of the performance was flawless, as usual.”

Otabek laughed and lifted his head. “My favourite judge.”

“Only because I’m extraordinarily biased.” 

Yuri turned onto his back. He wanted this kiss to be a good one. Damn, there it was again, that soft, warm expression like Otabek was looking at something he—. Fuck it, something he loved. Yuri pulled him down and kissed him the same way with soft, clinging lips and just a hint of warm tongue brushing at the edges. Otabek sighed, gathered Yuri closer and opened up the kiss, just a little, just enough to let some heat into it. It wasn't scorching, like it often was, it was more like sinking into one of Hasetsu's hot springs. The first firm caress of Otabek's lips evoked a sharp inhale, but the next turned Yuri's exhale into an approving hum. Yuri felt like he could float here for days, in Otabek's arms, under Otabek's mouth, tasting and being tasted with touches that soothed as much as they aroused. But the kiss had to end eventually.

They separated slowly, looked into each other's eyes and grinned. Oh, yeah, they'd nailed that one. Perfect score. Then Otabek turned serious as he brushed some imaginary hair away from Yuri's face and asked, "Can I think about it?"

It took Yuri a moment to realize what Otabek was talking about. Ohmygod, this guy! "No. I need your answer right now. Sealed in blood. Irrevocable." 

Otabek narrowed his eyes and that's all the warning Yuri got before he was pinned to the bed, and Otabek was sliding his softening but slick cock against Yuri's sticky and sensitive one. "Yes," he growled into Yuri's ear. "I want you in me. Filling me. Stretching me. You're bigger than the toy I use, you'll feel huge. I want to feel you move, fierce, powerful, like you are on the ice. I want you to use me. Yeah. Just take what you want. Leave bruises of your own. I want to be able to feel you in me for days."

Otabek raised his head from Yuri's ear. And grinned again. Then bounced off the bed and headed to the bathroom. 

Jesus—"Fucking Christ, Otabek! How the hell am I supposed to go to practice now?! I'm going to keep popping boners, get tossed off balance, and hit the fucking boards." The bastard was actually laughing and had started the shower. "If I get a concussion this time, I'm blaming you!" 

Fuuuuuuuck! Yuri wasn't kidding, he was going to be hearing Otabek's voice in his ear all day. All week. All fucking year. But then that was nothing new. He held moments like this very tight. Replaying them in his head so he wouldn't forget, so they wouldn't fade in the long stretches before they were able to see each other again. Just these few days had already been a gift for filling that stash, but also a bit of torture, finding out that they fit together so easily and knowing that it was going to end so soon. But not yet, he still had time to hold onto everything he wanted. He rolled out of bed and headed to the shower.


End file.
